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Updated: June 4, 2025
Toward three o'clock of the afternoon Yvonne mounted her piano box. The Fabiani family had been so well received that once it had been necessary for Philidor to draw the flap at the gate because there was no room in the enclosure for more people.
She relinquished the door-knob and emerged, inspecting his clothing. "You are from Paris, of course. Last year perhaps, you came " "I did last summer, Madame. I am Philidor the artist." "You! Monsieur! You Philidor!" She leaned forward upon the step, her eyes searching his face. "Philidor was not such as you.
His treatment of the orchestra, too, was more scientific than that of his contemporaries, but he had little gift of melody, and he was deficient in dramatic instinct. He often visited England, and ended by dying in London. One of the best of his works, 'Tom Jones, was written upon an English subject. Philidor was popular in his day, but his works have rarely been heard by the present generation.
Time was, when, if one man had Staunton's "Handbook," Sarratt, Philidor, Walker's "Thousand Games," and Lewis on "The Game of Chess," he was regarded as uniting the character of a chess-scholar with that of the antiquary. But now we hear of Bledow of Berlin with eight hundred volumes on chess; and Professor George Allen, of the University of Pennsylvania, with more than a thousand!
Yvonne had slept that night at a small auberge, her bed and board paid for with money she had made, and Philidor, who complained of a lack of sitters, slept quite comfortably near Clarissa in a stable.
A wail went up in the dressing tent when Hermia announced her decision. What should Cleofonte do without her? It was she who attracted the crowds the eloquence of Monsieur Philidor which drew them within the arena. Never in their lives had the Fabiani family enjoyed such success. And now that the Signor and Signora should go! It was unthinkable unbelievable! Cleofonte could not permit it.
He had not dared to look at it. But when the bell stopped ringing, Hermia's voice was speaking softly. "Do you want me to go, Philidor?" Her tone still mocked and he did not turn toward her. "No but you had better," he murmured. "Suppose I refused to go to Paris. What would you do?" He did not reply. "Could you treat me so? Is it my fault that you you fell in love with me?
The active members of the Fabiani family had all retired to the dressing tent and were occupied in the preliminaries to supper. Philidor's mind was working rapidly, but, think as he would, nothing occurred to him which might effectually serve to stem the tide of his visitor's dangerous curiosity. She paused before the door, looking upward, and Philidor watched the window fearfully.
He couldn't understand her, of course. She hadn't intended that he should, and this made the game so much the more interesting for them both. He didn't mind her tearing his dignity to taters and this she did with a thoroughness which surprised him, but he discarded the rags of it with an excellent grace, meeting her humor with a gayety which left nothing to be desired. "O Philidor!" she cried.
I had another expedient, not less solid, in the game of chess, to which I regularly dedicated, at Maugis, the evenings on which I did not go to the theatre. I became acquainted with M. de Legal, M. Husson, Philidor, and all the great chess players of the day, without making the least improvement in the game.
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